Feeling Better
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: The five Emotions fret, panic, freak out, and pull together when Riley becomes infected with an abominable disease—the flu. Post-movie.


_**Soli Deo gloria**_

 **DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Inside Out.**

 **Sooooooo I saw Inside Out. *Doofenshmirtz's voice* _LOVED IT._ I take a great personal interest in psychology and so that film piqued my interest in that right, and also— _I love a great story and great production._ This movie delivered both, and I would recommend going to see it—go, GO, ** GO **SEE IT. :)**

 **(BT-dubs (™ Lydia Bennet), this is just a total sick fanfic. But not your stereotypical one. I think. *big grin that makes you squint and feel confused*)**

Disgust was the first one to discover the danger. Usually Fear was on the case, a constant vigilante on all the waking world around them, but as he was in a cluster of Emotions pressing their noses against the windows and looking out into the wonderful new Personality Island collection, Disgust was womanning the console—and noticing things. "Oh my gosh, did he seriously just _sneeze_ into the air? Whatever happened to the common decency of shouting your germs into your sleeve, or a tissue, or a handkerchief?" Disgust scoffed.

Her obvious disgust brought the rest skipping, tiptoeing, shuffling, and waddling over to the console. "What is it, Disgust?" Fear asked worriedly, wringing his hands.

"We just saw Timmy Whitehouse sneeze," Disgust said. One of her green hands rested on her hips and her other was waving in a huff in the air. "Wait, wait," she leaned forward, and so did the others, Fear fearfully so; Disgust jumped back, mortified: "There is _mucus_ leaking out of his nose! Ugh!"

"Oh, whoa, whoa whoa whoa, he _better_ not be turning our way," Anger said, taking one side of the console.

"Is there a school-wide epidemic? _Now_ I have to write up a list of ways to avoid diseases," Fear moaned. He'd been so focused on not freaking out on the math quiz Riley was currently puzzling over. Now he had _this_?

"Okay, okay, calm down, everyone," Joy said cheerfully, her hands going up and down palms-down. She was a calming presence on these four extremes and would know what to do. "I'm sure Timmy's okay. Everyone sneezes every now and again, right?"

Disgust walked forward and frowned as Joy was proved wrong: _everyone_ , especially sensitive Disgust, could see countless kids coughing, sneezing, sniffling, blowing their noses, groaning, looking pink and fever-y, and calling on their teacher to go to the nurse. Riley was looking at everyone who showcased a symptom, as she was no longer worried by the quiz via Fear's control of the console, but curious as the Emotions took a step back and let her show them what was happening around her.

"Should we PANIC NOW?!" Fear jumped up and down on his squiggly legs, his hands clawing at his face. He was on the very verge of hyperventilating.

"I don't WANT us to get sick!" Anger yelled, pounding a hand on the console.

"Sick involves mucus and coughing and _throwing up_." Disgust's tone sounded like she meant to throw up at the mere thought.

Sadness sighed and padded over to the right side of their new console. "We lost. Riley's going to get sick. Maybe pressing this button will help her." She raised her hand to top it over the orange **PUBERTY** button and two seconds later would've been too late. Luckily, the other four Emotions shrieked "NO!" in their various freaked-out voices and Joy tugged Sadness away from the button before it could be pressed. "Whoa, let's calm down, guys," she said warmly. Looking at Sadness and her downcast face, she smiled and said, "I know you want to help out Riley, as we all do. Butttttt I don't think we should press that button just now. We don't know what it does yet. We'll press it sometime in the next year, when Riley is bored." Sadness smiled as much as only Sadness can, and said, "Okay. But we need to help Riley _now_. What do we do?"

"Well, we—we can—can"—Joy turned to the others, all expectant and waiting for their self-imposed leader to lead them out of this horrific set of unavoidable circumstances—"we need to first make sure that Riley _does not_ get sick. Fear, I want you to compose that list. Take all the safety precautions—washing hands, avoiding interacting with or touching anyone else—"

Fear looked relieved to be given a task to be done. "Already on it," and he dashed away.

"Disgust, I want you on constant watch on the screen. Alert us if she's in danger of violating any of those precautions," Joy ordered firmly, like a general giving important orders to the soldiers of a well-oiled army.

"Consider me rooted to this screen," Disgust said, before she squinted at her perfectly manicured nails.

"Yes, perfect. Anger, keep an eye on Riley's physical and emotional symptoms."

"I'll make sure no punk kid gets our girl sick!" Anger rolled his sleeves up and flanked Disgust at the console.

"What about me, Joy?" Sadness asked, her little fat hands clenched nervously together in front of her.

Joy smiled at Sadness. "You and I are going to retrieve Long Term Memories, green ones, to remind Riley of why she _doesn_ 't want to get sick."

Sadness's little cloud of depression lifted a little—a lifted corner of her mouth morphed into a smile. She'd be helping Joy, her friend, and it felt nice to be included. "That sounds like a good plan," she said.

Joy pumped her fist, excited. So Riley wasn't sick yet. With the five of them working hard to guide her, surely she wouldn't get infected. "This is going to work! We can do it! What's the worst that can happen with the five of us at the helm?" Joy asked rhetorically.

* * *

 **RILEY: SICK** was the headline on the grey newspaper Anger crumpled in his fists the next day. "HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?!" he demanded. He pointed a finger at Fear and said, " _You're_ good at making lists! Maybe _you_ could make a list of people who could've gotten Riley sick, and, oh," Anger looked at the screen, saw Riley cough into her fist, and growled with righteous anger, "they will _not_ escape my wrath!"

"We're sick. We're doomed to days in bed, with a thermometer and no school, no friends, no hockey." Sadness slumped onto her knees and then onto her face in the middle of Headquarters. Luckily, since she was away from the console, no blue Memory rolled into place along the rows of gold, bright red, murky green, and glowing purple. It wasn't far from becoming a possibility, though. Sadness's sadness was infectious.

"I bet it was when she bumped into that cute boy in the hall. Like, germs were somehow transferred in that split second— _now_ look at this mess we're in," Disgust said, shaking her head and clawing her nails, as if she had half a mind to join Anger on this man-hunt.

"BUT WE WASHED HANDS! AND—AND DRANK LOTS OF BOTTLED WATER AND GOT ENOUGH SLEEP!" Fear panicked, as usual; his hands spasmodically swept away his paper lists off of the console, scattering them all over the floor, and he finished his panic attack by burying his head in his hands and groaning. "How could this happen?"

"Okay, guys, we need a plan. A plan to get Riley safe and . . . not having the flu anymore. Who has suggestions?" Joy spun eagerly around the room to sour morose faces. "No idea is a bad idea!"

"Does that mean us not having an idea is . . . a bad idea?" Fear wondered, rousing his head from a crinkled stack of still-remaining papers.

"No, that's not what I meant. I just meant that we need to think positive, have a plan of attack!"

"I'm _positive_ that _we're_ sick," Disgust said.

Usually Sadness was the rain on the parade but Disgust seemed to be ahead of her today.

"Okay, the next one who says that . . . won't be punished, because that's negative, but don't worry: I'll think of something," Joy said determinedly.

"How about we THINK OF A WAY OUT OF THIS MESS?!" Anger said. His head became a burning flame as he roared.

"We can . . . go to the nurse!" Fear said suddenly, inspired.

"Ew, and stand in line with all the rest of the diseased kids? _Please_ , I'd rather _not_ have us killed before finishing middle school," Disgust said, putting an abrupt stop to that plan.

"We can call Mom," Sadness spoke up.

All were silent except for the unavoidable cough of Riley's.

"That . . . is actually a very good idea," Fear said, pleased.

"Yes! She will totally realize the severity of this situation and take us home, like, _now_ ," Disgust said urgently.

"Anger, calm your horses." Joy smiled as she patted his shoulder and watched as his flames subsided, this new info sinking into his thick head. "Sadness has a plan, and we're going to initiate it."

All in place, with orders from Joy, an orchestrated plan to get Riley to tell her teacher she felt bad and needed to get her mom to take her home was a go. Disgust, against her better judgment, made Riley cough and groan. The Emotion herself closed her eyes and stuck her tongue out once her role was played and she could step away from the console. Anger made Riley's voice firm, despite how dizzy and short-breathed the girl was, and Fear planted into her head words to tell her teacher that would make this plan be carried out very efficiently—"I might throw up," Riley said, "and I think I have a fever."

"Nice touch with the fever, Fear," Joy complimented him.

"Thank you, Joy," Fear sounded . . . cheerful, of all things.

And lastly, Sadness made Riley so sad and pathetic looking that the call went through without a hitch, Mom heard the tears of pain in her daughter's voice, and the old beat-up minivan showed up within ten minutes. Riley marched out and wiped at her nose with her hand (to Disgust's sighs) and was greeted by Mom, who asked, "Honey, did you feel this bad when you left this morning? Let me feel your forehead." This was done and Mom announced the official medical diagnosis: "You're burning up. Let's get you in bed. You've got the flu."

"The flu? But I have hockey practice, and I was going to hang out with the team afterwards at the new pizza place. . ." This speech ran out as Riley bent over and coughed hysterically. The concern the five Emotions could see Mom wore when Riley looked up at her made them know that Riley looked as bad as she physically felt.

"You're not doing any of that, young lady. To bed with you." Mom was all compassion and sympathy as she helped Riley into the front seat, throwing her backpack to the back. Like with their moving van months prior, the Andersens had had a time getting someone around to help them with a mishap from their moving to San Francisco—there was still a big gaping hole which the big dinosaur had plugged into the car's trunk. Every time they sat back there Riley shivered from the January San Francisco breezes protruding into it. The Emotions were just glad they weren't in Minnesota with it. They'd have had to deal with hypothermia rather than the flu.

"Mission accomplished, team," Joy said. She received high-fives from Sadness and Fear on her right side and two from Anger and Disgust on her left. She didn't look any of them in the face, though. Her eyes were stuck on that screen, seeing what their girl saw. So far, it was just the normal route home, and that was _exactly_ what she wanted. "Now, let's get Riley to bed."

* * *

Everyone felt very much relieved when Mom took control of the situation. Within ten minutes of entering their decorated grey San Fran house, Riley was in pajamas and under the covers of her bed, safe and warm in her new room. Well, new was a relative term. For the past few months it'd been her little haven. It felt more like home than ever when it was painted baby blue, covered with glow-in-the-dark stars, and filled with all the twelve-years-old sized furniture in the cozy space. Rain fell against the windowpane but didn't provoke a sad reaction in Riley as Sadness had learned that rain was . . . well, it could be nice and happy, and not necessarily sad. At the moment, as Riley lay under her purple and yellow sheets with her head against a soft pillow, she felt warm and fuzzy. Thus a lovely golden memory came rolling into her day's collection.

"Oh, it's nice to see a golden one," Joy commented cheerfully.

The Emotions'd calmed down. Disgust kept a sharp check on all violently ill symptoms, but was no longer pacing in her sharp little green heels and sporadically sticking out her tongue at who knew what. Anger's temper was calmed; he sat in a squat chair with a headline of **RILEY IN BED; MOM TAKING CARE OF HER** being announced by The Mindreader.

Sadness sighed, though. "It will get lonely here. Mom's busy after she takes care of us. Hockey would've been nice. Oh, well," and she sat as a sad little droop in her seat.

"But we have _lots_ of things to keep us busy and happy and cheerful and stuff. Don't worry, guys; I _totally_ have this covered." Twirling like an ice skater and bouncing like a kid on sugar energy, Joy busily made Riley get up and bring an array of entertainment to lay on her bed covers. "A book, a puzzle, and OH! her music player; she _needs_ that." Joy was ready for playtime but Riley had different ideas. She groaned and through their observing screen they saw her put a hand against her stomach, meaning only one thing: "SHE'S GOING TO THROW UP!" shrieked Disgust. Her eyes rolled in and she slumped in a dramatic faint.

"GET TO THE BATHROOM, RILEY!" Anger shouted, like how Dad shouted at the TV screen when watching a hockey game.

"We're not going to make it!" Fearful predicted the future with horror.

"We're going to make a mess; poor Riley," sighed Sadness sympathetically.

"No; we can make it in time!" Joy declared. Even so, you could tell the tension around her face didn't speak to the certainty of this hope.

Riley was already fumbling her way out of her bedroom; the hand once pressed to her tummy now slammed against her mouth, willful and unforgiving. She pulled her door open and jostled her mother, who'd brought her up a steaming cup of tea. "Riley? Where are you going?" Mom asked worriedly.

Riley's face flashed back and forth, for a moment confused as to where the bathroom was. "This back and forth is making _me_ kinda woozy," Fear said, groaning. He knelt next to Disgust and was shaking her hand, trying to awaken her from this state of unconsciousness. It wasn't his physical urging that woke her up so much as the premonitory words he said: she thrust away his hand and said, "Don't. You. _Dare_."

"WOULD EVERYBODY STOP PANICKING!?" Anger demanded, turning to face each Emotion in turn with steam and smoke radiating from his head.

"We're not panicking. We've resigned ourselves to the horrible inevitability of our fate," Sadness said. She sighed and slumped to the right side so much that she fell out of her chair. She laid there, the side of her face squished against the floor, and sighed hopelessly.

"This doesn't have to be our fate, guys," Joy said, feeling a surge of hope as Riley located the bathroom and slammed her barefeet toward it as fast as she could. "All we need to have happen is for Riley to make it to the toilet in time."

"She won't make it!" said Fear.

"Stop reminding me!" Disgust sounded more hopeless than Sadness.

"Yes, she _WILL_!" Joy announced in such a loud, borderline don't-you-dare-go-against-me-on-this! _Mom_ voice that the rest of the Emotions all stopped shouting and panicking and looked at her with surprised faces. Joy's back was to the screen, but she could heard Riley upchucking, and she whispered, "She's at the toilet, right?"

"We're facing toilet water, all right," Anger affirmed.

Joy smiled and they all whooped, even Disgust, who noticed several green memories roll into Headquarters. She picked herself up, refusing any help from the willing Fear, and dusting off her dress, said, "Well, I hope that's the _last_ time that'll happen today."

"So do I," Fear quavered worriedly.

Joy smiled at the horrible success Riley'd attained, and felt that the situation was taken care of as Mom came up behind Riley and rubbed her back. "Poor baby," she murmured sympathetically. The Emotions let Mom take care of the work for the moment: she gave Riley a cup of water to clean her mouth out, flushed the toilet, and led her back to bed. She whispered sweet nothings and kissed her cheek as she tucked her in. The steaming cup of herbal tea in a reusable coffee cup sat next to Riley's lamp. Mom went back to the bathroom and came back to pat a folded damp washcloth on Riley's forehead.

"That should help cool your fever," Mom said. She cleared away the fun that Joy had hoped would serve a cheering-up purpose; they all listened like respectful, obeying soldiers as they watched Mom say through Riley's eyes, "I don't want you up and running just yet. I want you to sip your tea now, just as much as you can, and then catch some sleep, okay?"

"Sounds like a good plan," Joy said cheerfully.

"We could all use a break," Fear pointed out.

"Especially Riley, poor kid," Anger said.

They all nodded sympathetically; Headquarters had been freaking out and hectic, but it all affected Riley; if any one of them needed a break, it was her, poor kid.

"Your father and I will check on you later." Mom kissed her cheek again and said as she closed the door, "I love you, Riley. Feel better soon, honey."

Riley had a disgusted, sad, and joyful memory roll in: disgusted, from having just thrown up; sad, from being sick; but joyful, because Mom knew what to do and made her feel just a little bit better—and loved, of course. Disgust, Sadness, and Joy gathered around to admire this little new memory. "It's pretty," Disgust decided. "It's such a nice mix," Joy agreed. "It's like the sun and grass and sky. Is that happy, Joy?" Sadness wondered. She'd been trying to not be so down and depressed lately.

Joy smiled and patted her shoulder. "Very nice observation, Sadness." This earned her a small smile on Sadness's face.

Anger and Fear meanwhile kept up at the console: Fear bit his nails, worried that Riley would burn herself on that tea, and Anger watched with determined, not-blinking eyes to make sure that she drank enough. He hated those germs that infected their kid, and wanted them vanquished by any and all helpful solutions, such as this weird herbal organic tea.

"Has Riley drunk all her tea?" Joy inquired of these two watchful Emotions.

"Yes, and she didn't burn herself once!" Fear said, limp with relief.

"Augh, but this tea is _so_ bitter. Mom forgot the sugar." Disgust endured shudders as a green Memory rolled in and Riley stuck out her tongue—ick—before she replaced the cup on her bedside table. Riley yawned, sniffled, and then blew her nose; Disgust almost fainted. The Emotion was kept from a repetition of repeated groans, noises of distaste like gagging, and physically looking mortified by Riley yawning and lying back down in bed again. Her eyes closed, the TV screen going off, and all was quiet as the five Emotions listened for the distinct sound of her snoring. It came gently, and they all breathed easier upon hearing it.

"Okay, impromptu nap. Time for a team huddle," Joy said, merrily skipping to the Core Memory Center. The other four Emotions joined her: Anger with hands on his hips and a bone to pick with some certain little punk who infected his precious kid, Fear nervous and frightened about how the situation would progress, Sadness all shaggy hair and clasped fat hands and worry for Riley, and Disgust just about tested to her limit and about to be sick herself. Joy stood at the center of Headquarters and said, "We are going to pull ourselves—and therefore Riley—through this illness. She's been sick before, and we've handled it."

"But not in _San Francisco_ ," Sadness, as she would, pointed out.

"We handled being sick in Minnesota for the first time," Joy reminded everyone, "and we got through okay."

"Riley was less than one then," Anger reminded none-too-nicely.

"But we have _Memories_ we can recall at any time just to remind us how we did it. Hey, that's a good idea!" Joy's idea of course meant that the next several waking hours for them were spent watching Riley home-movies. They all stood around the console and appropriately oohed and awed over their baby girl, groaned, squirmed, and ran away screaming when appropriate. By the time their twelve-years-old girl was stirring with a hot fever, the five Emotions were equipped for the worst. They were armed with strategies, game-plans, and breaks for Disgust to freak out, stomping her feet and waving her hands about when necessary.

Those five were a determined well-oiled machine for the next five days—Riley _stayed_ in bed, despite the draw of hockey and her friends ("It's _snowing_ outside," Joy moaned—"Of course it is," said Sadness), drank water proficiently (and enough tea to choke a Brit), blew her nose until it was red, threw up (Disgust wanted _so_ badly to not let Riley open her eyes during any of those . . . _ew_ episodes, but of course she _would_ and cause more and more green Memories to flood into the place—the exact opposite of what Disgust wanted, strangely enough), and swallowed so many painkillers as to make her father grab the keys and make a mad run to the drug store at past one in the morning. Shifts were taken by-and-large by the Emotions—each Emotion was so strong in controlling Riley's mood that her parents were weirded out by her strange and violent mood-swings—she was huffy and blaming when Anger had the steering wheel, and despondent over ever getting rid of this horrible flu when Fear had control of the reins. She was a bright and cheerful model patient when Joy was at the helm, grossed out and certainly more than a little bit of a California girl when Disgust chose the channel, and a weepy mess over this entire ordeal when Sadness was allowed to hold the remote. The sad moments she had were often the moments she got comforting hugs and words from Mom and Dad; those were good joyful/sad moments for Riley, ones _all_ the Emotions knew she needed.

* * *

It was a good bonding experience, just them with their girl healing in her solitude in her pretty blue room with slight, _slight_ snow (it _was_ San Francisco, after all), but one day Riley got up. "Hey, Mom, Dad," she said, walking down the stairs in her purple pajamas and slippers covered in hockey sticks.

Mom was frying something in a cast iron pan on the stove. Dad was leaning against the counter and sipping coffee. He almost spewed it all out when Riley looked up at them with bright blue eyes. "Riley, you're out of bed," he said.

"Honey, did you need something? Some more tea, a book?" Mom wanted to know. They both knelt next to her to meet her eye level.

"No, actually, I don't," Riley said. She smiled, satisfied. "I feel better."

"She feels better. . ." Fear, with wide eyes, turned his head in shock to the other Emotions.

"She feels better!" Anger said, fist-pumping in excitement.

"She feels better?" Sadness said, looking up and feeling a little hopeful.

"SHE FEELS BETTER!" Joy announced to all (in case they didn't know), and she mirrored the Andersen family's relieved hug as she gathered together the other Emotions into a big WELL DONE! hug. Except for Disgust, who said in relief, "She _feels better_ " and, eyes rolling back into her head, fainted dead-away from relief.

Joy giggled as she hugged them until Sadness pointed to Disgust. "Um, Joy, Emotion down."

They all stopped, let go, and peered their faces over to her. Joy waved a hand and said, "She could use a break. It's been a stressful week, but we did _such_ a good job! And she's worked the hardest."

Disgust'd snatched up an opportunity all the other Emotions wanted to take. Feeling better, well-rested, and back on her feet, Riley was full of energy just when all her Emotions felt like falling into little heaps and slipping into oblivion.

"I . . . I'll take the next shift with her," Joy said, smiling, as she saw all her friends fall into sleeping lumps before turning back to her girl. "Hey, Riley. It's just you and me again. But don't worry. They'll be back soon. Buttttt, in the meantime," and she smiled, "I'm glad you're feeling better."

 **Thanks for reading!**


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